


Ghostly Whispers

by Nadja_Lee



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Demonic Possession, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Violence, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Guilt, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Love, M/M, Possession, Protectiveness, Shaman Blair Sandburg, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-28
Updated: 2006-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22993543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadja_Lee/pseuds/Nadja_Lee
Summary: Blair has been acting strange lately and one night things explode as Jim fight to discover what is really going on.
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Kudos: 35





	Ghostly Whispers

**Ghostly Whispers**

These past few weeks had been confusing to say the least. At times Jim felt as if he had no control over his reactions or his body. He would feel nervous and uneasy, increasingly when he was around Blair which made no sense whatsoever. First of all, he was rarely nervous or uneasy and if he was his military training would prevent him from showing, and likely even feeling, it. He also noticed that he would try and avoid others’ touch, also Blair’s. It was frustrating the hell out of him. He really didn’t want any complications in his life right now. Not now when everything was just going so well.

It had been two years since Blair’s dissertation had gone public and one year since he had completed a PhD on the secret society of the police force at another university. Both men had quickly realized that being a cop wasn’t what Blair wanted – he had dreamt all his life of being a scholar. It was who he was just as Jim was a Sentinel, a cop…a protector. Jim had used all his contacts, from his military days, his family and the ones he had gathered as a cop, he had used all his skills and tricks, some legal and some not, to make Blair’s dream possible. Where Blair was concerned his happiness was all that mattered. The prospect of losing the younger man had made it clear to Jim that he would do anything to ensure his happiness. 

His efforts had bore fruit and Jim hadn’t felt happier as when he had offered Blair the prospect of joining another university in town and finish his degree there. Blair had shined like a small sun and had impulsively hugged him close, his eyes glowing with joy. After he had obtained his degree Blair worked as a researcher and lecturer at the university while still at times riding with Jim. Life had settled into a contented rhyme for them. Finally, after having wounded Blair so badly when he had mistrusted him and now knowing Blair’s dream had come true, Jim felt himself worthy to approach the other man. He had wished to do so for a very long time but had tried to fight it. Now he didn’t know why it had been so important to him to fight his own emotions. The day he had told Blair he loved him and Blair had fallen eagerly into his arms with a declaration of love of his own, Jim had finally discovered what love and happiness truly was. It had now been nine months since they had become lovers and their life seemed perfect.

Until now. Jim had tried to fight it but he knew something was wrong. It was as if his emotions were not his own and at night he would see images, glimpses of a past which wasn’t his own and yet still felt strangely familiar to him. When morning came he could not hold onto the dream long enough for him to see the images clearly. These last three weeks he had found these strange sensations happening more often but it was first now that they started to really focus around Blair. At first he had denied it – he would never be uneasy around his younger lover – yet the feeling was undeniably there. 

Two days ago things had escaladed when for a reason he couldn’t even figure out, Blair and him had started arguing. Looking back at the argument it was as if it wasn’t them saying the words nor was it their own reactions. Blair had been angry, insulting and harsh while he had been retreating, fearful and desperately defensive. Blair had accused him of infidelity; he had denied it until Blair had started yelling insults and had angrily left the loft. The next morning it was as if it had never happened; Blair was himself once more and didn’t seem to recall the incident. Yet during that argument Jim had sensed, in lack of a better word, something dark…something sinister, looming over the whole room and focusing around Blair in particular. Till today he had got this feeling off Blair three more times and during all these times Blair had started fights with him, had yelled at him, belittled him and through it all hadn’t acted like himself. But again neither had he. Why had he just taken that verbal abuse? Why had he been afraid? He had often feared  **for** Blair but had never and couldn’t imagine he ever would be afraid  **of** him.

Today the evening had started out normally enough. They had started to cook together and had enjoyed taking their time as it was a Friday. They had talked about work and Jim had reminded his partner they were going to his brother’s birthday party that coming Sunday. Blair had asked about his senses and Jim had admitted he had had a near zone out. Since they had become lovers his senses had grown increasingly powerful; too much so for there not to be a connection. However, these last few weeks his senses had been playing tricks on him as if something was out of balance. Blair had commented with worry and said he would ride with him on his next shift. 

Just as Jim was to reply he sensed the same dark presence circulating, looming, near Blair and a shiver ran down his spine. That was when he knew this evening would not be like any other. As if on cue Blair’s whole posture and expression changed. He looked angry, dark…bitter in a way he normally never did. The presence of darkness, of evil, was so clear Jim almost felt he could reach out and touch it. 

“You never do anything right. I don’t know why I put up with you!” Blair’s harsh words came over his lips yet his voice was different as if someone was literally speaking through his mouth. Just as Jim was about to make an angry and confused comeback he felt a light presence, a warm yet fearful being. He recognized the being now; it was the same being that had prevented him from fighting Bair during the earlier incidents. 

“Mike, don’t. Please.” The words came from his mouth but it wasn’t him speaking; his voice sounded light and soft, afraid and hurt. Jim felt increasingly like he was drowning. His emotions changed; his strength seemed to disappear. His memories slowly started to change as well. No matter how hard he fought he couldn’t find a way out, he couldn’t find any dial setting for this one. 

“Don’t? Don’t what? You didn’t go to school, don’t make any money….you don’t even cook well! You’re useless!” 

The words were angry, heated, as if they had been arguing for some time already though just minutes ago they had been talking, smiling, stealing occasional kisses while drinking a beer and steering the pots. Now the food was forgotten as Blair took a threatening step towards the other man. 

Having no control over his body and barely over his emotions, Jim felt himself retreat out of the kitchen, his heart beating wildly in his chest due to a fear that wasn’t his own. In his head he saw, he knew…he felt, that this scene had played out many times before. When Blair raised his hand he already knew the pain of the hit. When the stroke came it was no surprise. 

“Please. Don’t.” His voice was shaking and so soft and low it was almost hard to hear. He took a hand up to his injured cheek and felt the heat from the stroke. Jim began to see the scene change. He wasn’t in his kitchen in the loft – he was in a living room in a large house. The articles and furniture around him were fine and fancy – for the 1950s. 

“Please don’t,” Blair mocked yet his voice had completely changed now. It was deeper, darker and with a southern accent. His face was growing red from his mounting rage. 

“I’ll teach you some manners…” he went on, spitting the words out as he started to unbuckle his belt, the movement quick, angry and cruel. 

“No!” The terror and fear Jim felt made his pulse quicken even more and his breath come in quick and harsh gasps. 

Unable to hold his focus Jim got lost in a sea of dark memories, of being constantly afraid, of being hit with fists or belt or anything else Mike could find. Of hiding bruises from everyone. Of pain and torment; a constant state of misery and insecurity. Overwhelmed by the emotions that slammed into his soul, his very being, Jim felt himself turn around and try to flee. 

Blair was on him when he was only halfway into the living room. “Don’t you dare talk back to me!” Blair yelled enraged, his breath quick as well and sweat was starting to form on his face from the fury he felt within. It was a fury unlike any Blair had ever felt; all consuming and complete. The world was nothing but dark emotions of hate and bitterness, of betrayal and anger. With a strong and painful grip upon Jim’s arm Blair raised his belt high into the air with the other hand. 

Fighting back, all his strength…it didn’t matter. Jim was caught in a helplessness not his own; a helplessness he couldn’t escape from. Jim used his free hand to cover his face and tried to turn away so the stroke fell on his back and shoulders, tearing his plain white t-shirt and biting painfully into his skin, drawing blood. Caught in the spiritual whirlpool his control of his sense dial was slipping and the strokes felt like pure fire; his sense of touch having risen high above normal. There was more strength in the hit than Blair would have been able to put into it and Jim had less strength than he had ever had in his adult life. He couldn’t stop the yell of pain nor his terror when Blair raised the belt again yet neither were his; it was another’s terror and fears which slammed into his soul and took his ability to fight away from him. 

Several more strokes fell in rapid succession and unable to control his sense of touch his skin felt as if it was being ripped from his body piece by piece. Jim couldn’t keep from voicing his agony in screams of pain. Suddenly a flash of images hit Jim and he knew how the scene would end. He…she had been here before. She had gone through this. This was the night Mike hadn’t been able to stop himself. This was the night he had killed her. If her pain did this much damage to him what would her death do? Would it mean his own death as well? Self-preservation made Jim fight to regain control of his body but his senses overpowered him. Her terror was too great and the darkness of him was all consuming. He wasn’t able to break free. In desperation he tried the only thing he could think of…in his mind he called for Blair. Called for his Guide, his Shaman. For his lover. He put all his love and faith in the other man, all his desperation and fear into one powerful mental call. 

Jim saw the change, felt it, sensed it. Blair’s body gave a jerk and his arm, raised for another stroke, froze. 

“No! Be gone!” Blair commanded. 

This was Blair’s voice; Jim would have recognized it anywhere. Never before had he felt such relief. Even the presence which still occupied his body didn’t have enough fear and terror in her to keep a small smile of pure love, faith and relief from appearing on Jim’s lips. 

Jim’s mental scream seemed to have opened a door; created a crack in the armor of the dark presence which had completely consumed Blair. His eyes and face changed completely; the rage and darkness faded away. He threw the belt on the floor as if it burned him and put his arms out and laid his head back as if contacting something only he could see. Jim saw as much as felt the darkness leave the younger man just as he felt the presence fall away from himself. Finally freed Jim’s pain became more bearable, his terror and fear disappeared as fog for the sun and he felt strong and secure once more. He was able to raise and catch Blair as his eyes turned white and he collapsed into Jim’s embrace.

* * *

When Blair opened his eyes again he was lying in their bed upstairs and Jim was sitting on the bedside, keeping loving but concerned vigil over him. 

“Jim?” he asked hoarsely, a tired and slightly confused look on his face. He felt drained as if he had run a hundred miles. Then memory returned full force and he sat up with a jerk. 

“Oh, God! I hurt you!” he said terrified. He reached out and laid a hand on Jim’s shoulder, noticing he had changed into a loose black t-shirt from the tight white shirt he had worn earlier.

Jim shook his head, his expression serious. “No, you didn’t. He did.”

Unwilling to debate that now Blair went on; worry clear in his expression, “Turn around.” At Jim’s closed expression Blair added softly, “Please. I need to know.” 

As his lover, his Guide…the one who was supposed to always be there, never harm…he needed to know. He needed to see.

Without a word Jim turned his back to Blair and pulled up his t-shirt. Blair drew a sharp breath in horror. There were some ten angry red welts on his upper back and shoulders, many of which were still oozing a little blood. 

“We need to get you to a hospital.”

Jim pulled his shirt back down and shook his head as he turned back to face him. 

“No. I’ll be fine,” he insisted in a certain but calming tone.

“But…”

Jim interrupted him, his voice strong and sure. “I was trained as a medic, remember? I will be fine. Besides, I have had worse things happen during missions in the army.” He shrugged as if it was unimportant to him.

“I’m so sorry,” Blair sniffed, unable to stop his flow of tears. He had hurt him. Him who hated violence; who was supposed to heal and guide. How could he ever get past that? Him who loved him, who would never harm anyone…least of all his lover, his Sentinel. Yet he had hurt him, badly. 

Jim but a loving hand against Blair’s nearest cheeks, making him look him in the eyes so he could read the truth of his words there. 

“Chief, I don’t break that easily,” Jim said mildly but seriously. He knew it hadn’t been Blair and he knew Blair would never harm him; he didn’t need any recovery time. He never had and never would fear Blair. 

“What I did …what I said…” Blair got out between sniffs, tears stealing his voice as well as his breath. He was seconds away from a panic attack and he tried to fight it but the feeling of dread and horror kept moving closer. 

“Shh. It’s ok. It wasn’t you,” Jim said softly and gently wiped a tear from Blair’s cheek with his hand, his eyes warm and his expression mild.

Jim’s voice soothed him and fought his panic away but not his sadness and guilt. 

“How can you say that? It was me…I did this,” Blair insisted, unable to forgive himself even if Jim was. 

Jim shook his head. “No you didn’t,” he said strongly.

“But…”

“No buts. I know you. You wouldn’t hurt a fly, least of all me,” Jim said seriously, overruling him. He could see Blair was set to protest but he went on before he could speak, “Chief, I trust you. I doubted you once and I almost lost everything. I will never do that again. I know it wasn’t you.”

“What do you mean you know?” Blair asked, letting himself get comforted by Jim’s words even though he knew it would take some time for him to get past this. 

Jim moved his hand from Blair’s cheek to his shoulder, giving it a loving squeeze. 

“Your scent is different, your touch, your voice…my senses may trick me at times but they never lie.” 

Calmed but still remorseful Blair nevertheless smiled warmly at him, his tears stilled. 

“I love you,” he said seriously and with a hand on his arm he moved closer and in for a kiss.

“Love you too,” Jim said and willingly bent close so their lips could meet in a loving kiss filled with faith and promise. He used his other hand to draw Blair close to his chest, enjoying the scent and feel of him against his skin. 

When they drew apart Blair had a serious expression on his face. He gave Jim’s cheek a loving stroke as he said, “What happened…we need to make sure it never happens again.”

Jim nodded slightly, making sure not to lose contact with Blair’s hand; like always the touch of his Guide calmed him and brought him comfort. 

“You know how I have been able to sense ghosts, see their life?” Jim didn’t even wait for Blair to nod – he knew Blair remembered every detail about his Sentinel powers and experiences. 

“I think just as my other senses have been enhanced after we became lovers so has my ability to sense the supernatural.”

Blair nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds likely that a bonding between a Sentinel and a Guide would enhance all and not just some skills.” 

It had been a theory Blair had had that this would happen after they became lovers, but he hadn’t considered how Jim’s ability to sense and connect with the supernatural would be impacted. 

“Your Shaman powers seem to have been enhanced as well. You banished the spirits,” Jim reminded him with a warm and proud smile, gratitude in his voice as he said it.

Blair moved his hand to Jim’s arm, not breaking touch once, needing the contact as much as Jim did. 

“I got them out for now. I think we need to employ another dial for you…one which controls this…sixth sense of yours.” Jim nodded agreement. “This should help control the sense but these spirits came to you, as a Sentinel, for a reason.”

“I know. The woman, Julia, was the spirit who connected with me. She was murdered,” Jim told him, his voice dark as he recalled her pain, able to remember it now.

“Then likely she wants justice.”

“She shall have it,” Jim swore in a menacing voice. Her husband, Mike, had been every bit as cruel as his dark presence had indicated. 

Blair knew the expression on Jim’s face well; it was the one which always bore ill for the criminal elements in the city. 

“Her killer is still alive?”

Jim nodded grimly. “His darkness stayed with her after her murder as it had during life, preventing her from finding peace even in death. It was that darkness which we felt.” 

“Poor woman,” Blair said sympathetic, feeling for her as he did all in need or pain.

“Don’t worry, Chief. I will make sure that bastard gets his due,” the Sentinel promised, his expression dark and certain. 

“I know.” 

Blair had never doubted that Jim was a good Sentinel – he cared for every member of his tribe, living or dead, and since he was likely the only Sentinel alive that tribe was potentially the entire planet. 

“I remember them both now. I will go to the station in a few hours,” Jim said before he smiled fondly and crawled into bed with Blair and under the covers.

“First though…there is something more important I need to do,” he said warmly as they lay facing each other, both men careful of Jim’s injuries. 

“What is that?” Blair asked softly, smiling as well, feeling warmth and love wash over him as he glently stroked Jim’s cheek. 

Jim caught Blair’s hand and brought it to his lips with all the loving gentleness of his emotions for his partner. 

“Loving my Guide,” he said and did just that. For the next few hours they simply lay together in bed, quietly, silently, touching adoringly, just enjoying each other and the love that floated between them as strongly as if it was a tangible thing. They were reconnecting, rediscovering the balance that would enable them to move on as Sentinel and Guide, Sentinel and Shaman…as Jim and Blair, lovers, partners and friends. 

The end 


End file.
